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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370408">After the edge of great</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smol_fangirl/pseuds/smol_fangirl'>smol_fangirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, JATP Appreciation Week 2020, Luke has a music block, Role Reversal, a sprinkle of pining, my taste in music is showing and I refuse to be shamed for it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Characters:</b></td><td>Alex (Julie and The Phantoms), Caleb Covington, Julie Molina, Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought working for Caleb Covington would get them their big breakthrough. He thought he stood on the edge of great. Instead, he fell right off.<br/>Now, he hopes Julie can help him find his way back.</p><p> </p><p>She nudges his shoulder. His eyes jump to her. “You didn’t deserve to have something taken from you that brought you so much joy.”<br/>The slightest smile unravels on his lips, and butterflies swarm the pit of her stomach. “Thanks, Julie.”<br/>“Sure,” she replies softly, her hand carefully resting on top of his.<br/>Luke stares at their hands together like he’s been granted a miracle he never dared to wish for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>After the edge of great</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy JATP Appreciation Week!<br/>The prompt for day 2 was to write an au, so here's the role reversal no one probably asked for :D<br/>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She doesn’t have to look to know he’s there. As always, he waits behind the windowed door, like a ghost haunted by his own memories.</p><p>As always, her skin tingles whenever he stares at her.</p><p>It’s not like he never looks anywhere else. When he shows up in time to see his friends performing, the slightest smile hushes over his lips and he sends them an approving nod. Sometimes, his eyes linger on Nick’s guitar, or on his fingers dancing over the strings. Once, she caught him watching Mrs. Harrison as she listened to Carrie’s latest song.</p><p>But every time Luke looks at Julie, her heart clenches in her chest.</p><p>Shaking her head, she stares harder at Nick. But her ears aren’t paying his guitar riffs any attention, too caught up in the noise of her inner voice screaming at him. Couldn’t he just lean against a locker or sit on the floor for once as he waited for Alex and Reggie? Just stop stealing her focus during the last five minutes of the music program for one day?</p><p>Maybe his eyes on her wouldn’t give her so many shivers if he actually talked to her again. But the sound of his voice remains a distant memory, flickering like a dream she can’t quite remember in the morning.</p><p>When Mrs. Harrison releases them for the day, Luke takes three steps back, disappearing from Julie’s view. With a sigh, she gets up and searches for Reggie’s gaze. He smiles and waves her over.</p><p>“You and Flynn make a great team,” he says. “That was a killer rap!”</p><p>“Thanks, Reggie. I love <em>Youngblood</em>, that was such a great song choice! Do you know any other songs by them?”</p><p>Next to him, Alex huffs in amusement. “The first time he applied here, he played <em>Out of my Limit</em>. Drove us crazy for weeks, right, Reg?”</p><p>“What can I say?” he shrugs, gently tapping his bass. “They’re rocking. Hey, we should listen to them together sometime, Julie.”</p><p>“Sure! I’d love that,” she smiles back, her hand already searching for her phone in her back pocket, when Flynn calls her name from the other side of the room. “Oh, I think she wants to go. We’ll talk tomorrow?”</p><p>“No problem.” Reggie gives her a thumbs-up while Alex nods at her, and it’s almost enough to ignore the wounded puppy look on their friend’s face as she breezes past him into the hallway.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>(She wonders if Luke will ever look at her and smile again.)</p>
<hr/><p>As soon as she closes the door around her, the chatter from the cafeteria fades into a distant noise. A sigh rushes over her lips in relief.</p><p>This morning, she woke up with a lump in her stomach and an all too familiar sadness tugging at her heart. In the kitchen, the empty seat by the breakfast table with the clean plate and unused butter knife stabbed her in the ribcage. When the first bell of the school day echoed through the hallways, her grief had reached her mind in a flood that carried every other thought away.</p><p>On a day like this, the music room always offers her a safe haven.</p><p>Sitting down in front of the grand piano, her fingers ghost over the keys. After months and months, she knows the song by heart and yet, for one second, she always hesitates. One second. One note. Then, she pours all her grief into the music, lets her voice carry it until she reaches the shore.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wake up</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wake up</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If it’s all you do </em>
</p><p> </p><p>On days like this, singing feels like the only way she can take a breath.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s not what you lost</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s what you’ll gain raising your voice in the rain </em>
</p><p> </p><p>In her mind, her mom is sitting right next to her, watching. Julie almost <em>feels</em> her eyes on her, and the soft smile that makes the skin around her eyes crinkle.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Time to come out of the dark</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wake up </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The last note lingers in the air. Opening her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitch up just as the last tear gently waves goodbye to her cheek.</p><p>Then she looks up and shrieks.</p><p>Luke. By the open door. <em>In</em> the music room.</p><p>She closes her mouth.</p><p>“Hi,” he says quietly, closing the door behind him. Rubs his neck. “Um, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p><p>Almost a year of silence and stolen stares, and he’s here. Alone. Listening to her play. Talking to her. He’s on the other side of the room, with his sad puppy eyes and fluffy hair and <em>he’s talking to her</em>.</p><p>Is this a cruel daydream she’ll inevitably wake up from?</p><p>Blinking the thought away, she tucks her hair behind her ears and clears her throat. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry.” She wants to ask if everything’s okay, but she knows it’s not. Obviously not. So she settles for a “What’s up?” and ignores how lame it sounds.</p><p>“I was just, uh, walking by and um, I heard you,” he nods at the hallway, biting his lip. “I like hearing you play,” he adds in almost a whisper.</p><p>Her heart skips a beat, only to pick up its pace until she can hear the rhythm drumming in her ears. Looking down at the piano, she forces a breath down her lungs. “Oh. Thanks.”</p><p>“And… um, I was wondering if…” Against her better judgement, her gaze darts back to him. He’s taking a deep breath, eyes closed. Her chest aches at the thought that it wasn’t always like this. Awkward. Hard. The boy in front of her looks nothing like the firework she knows from every video saved in her YouTube playlist.</p><p>The spark she saw in his eyes up close, <em>so close</em>, is long gone.</p><p>“Julie, I’m really sorry I left last year. I loved writing that song with you and I wish I would have…” His voice breaks and there’s so much pain spilled all over his face that she knows he’s thinking of Caleb.</p><p>All she wants for him is to find that spark again.</p><p>“It’s alright, Luke,” she replies, putting on a smile. “I’m not mad. I had a lot of fun writing with you, too.”</p><p>The hint of a smile on his face brushes the weight off her shoulders with ease. Eyes solely on her, he steps closer. She holds her breath.</p><p>“Could you play something?” he asks.</p><p>For a moment, Julie wonders if her ears are playing tricks on her. A slide show pops up in her mind, jumping through the whispers in the hallway, the tweets. The news articles opened in ten different tabs on her phone. Every notification from her Google Alerts. Amid all the speculation and gossip, she only knows crumbs of the truth. She knows Caleb Covington is still awaiting his trial, and she knows he’s accused of tax fraud and child labor law violations. She knows that Sunset Curve last posted on Instagram the day after she finished Edge of Great with Luke. She knows he didn’t reapply for the music program, and that Reggie wishes he would at least listen to his favorite bands again.</p><p>She doesn’t know why he wants to listen to her now, out of everyone and everything.</p><p>She nods anyway.</p><p>“Sure. Anything specific you want to hear?”</p><p>As Luke shakes his head, the wounded puppy eyes come back. Trying to hide the frown behind her hair, she rests her hands on the keys. Breathes in. Out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The drought was the very worst </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When the flowers that we’ve grown together died of thirst </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The bell rings before she makes it to the second chorus. Luke jumps at the sound, standing up straight so he no longer leans against the precious grand piano. “Oh,” he gasps, then clears his throat and shyly adds, “Guess we should head back to class.”</p><p>The disappointment in his voice gives her a foolish, silly, wonderful idea.</p><p>“Yeah… but if you want, we could hang out after school at my place? I still have that piano in the garage.” Her eyes linger on him as she speaks, and she wonders if it’s out of courage or if she’s just a little magnet finally surrendering to the force of the connection they once shared.</p><p>What if he doesn’t even remember that piano anymore, though?</p><p>He remembers. He lights up like a switch flipped on, a wide smile brightening up his whole face. She couldn’t look away if her life depended on it.</p><p>“I’ll check with my parents first,” he replies, failing to flatten the curve of his mouth. “But I’d like that. Is your phone number still the same?”</p><p>She nods. And even though she’s not quite sure why he suddenly wants to ask his parents for permission, she prays they’ll say yes.</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <strong>Hey Julie, Luke here</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>New number</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>We could meet after classes? </strong>
  </p>
  <p><strong><em>Sounds good to me</em></strong> 😊</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<hr/><p>He follows her inside with a sense of wonder stuck on his face. Watching him, she finds a strange comfort in the fact that while the circumstances of his visit might be different, at least the studio hasn’t really changed. Sure, a few plants found their untimely death because she drowned them in good intentions, and her mom’s clothes aren’t scattered around anymore, but in no way would he notice that.</p><p>“You said it was your mom’s studio, right?” he asks, fingers gliding over the shiny wood of the grand piano.</p><p>“Yeah. I didn’t really change anything.”</p><p>When he turns around, he wears that look she hates on anyone else. “I’m sorry. About her. That really sucks.” His voice sounds soft, gentle, like a blanket wrapped around her.</p><p>“Thank you.” She blinks the tears away that are sneaking up her eyes. Looking at the piano, she exhales loudly. Smiles. “You know, this place feels so much like her. Like, whenever I’m here, she’s still by my side. I’m glad I get to have that.”</p><p>For a moment, he doesn’t answer. He just blinks at her out of hazel eyes that almost look like an ocean blue in the afternoon sun. “I’m glad for you, too,” he finally says.</p><p>His eyes are no longer the only thing stealing her breath.</p>
<hr/><p>She doesn’t play <em>Clean</em> again. The melody wanders through her mind, but the second she sits down on the piano bench and she feels the warmth of his arm on her skin, it’s gone. Out of reach. Lost. All she remembers is the chords to the song she wishes he hasn’t forgotten.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Running from the past</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tripping on the now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What is lost can be found</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s obvious </em>
</p><p> </p><p>During the chorus, she glances over at him. Their eyes meet. Her fingers freeze on the keys, dragging the notes into a cold silence.</p><p>She doesn’t notice.</p><p>She doesn’t notice, because Luke is crying. A waterfall of tears running down his cheeks, and it’s her fault.</p><p><em>Oh no</em>.</p><p>“Luke, I’m so…“ The end of her sentence gets stuck in her throat.</p><p>He jumps up. In the blink of an eye, he’s sitting on the couch, too far away from her, wiping his eyes. Her stomach twists at the sight. She should’ve known better. Whatever happened with his band, his dream, he’s obviously not ready to talk about it. And yet he trusted her enough to ask for her help, to listen to her, even though every note must feel like visiting a home that tried to burn him alive. Luke trusted her, and all she cared about was the memory of his lips on hers.</p><p>If he didn’t speak to her for another year, she’d deserve it now.</p>
<hr/><p>The lyrics cut straight to his core. The memories, too. All that hope. The excitement. The daydreams about their big breakthrough that didn’t feel like dreams anymore. Finding Julie, and a connection that came as easy as a new song. Writing with her, his hand on hers as she showed him the chords on her piano. Her breath so close until he shared it. Her fingers in his hair as he kissed her like he had found a language more beautiful than music. He remembers smiling at her, and kissing her again, thinking that he had it all, that he truly stood on the edge of something great.</p><p>Instead, he fell right off.</p><p>“Do you have something else?” he chokes out, not daring to glimpse in her direction.</p>
<hr/><p>Weirdly enough, he doesn’t run away.</p><p>He sits on the couch, eyes closed as he nods along to a Spanish song her parents used to dance to in the living room. When he says he should go back home for dinner, he hugs her for a fraction of time too short for Julie’s liking.</p><p>He starts greeting her after the music program now, and waves whenever he spots her in between classes. The next time he comes over, he brings her brownies that he made with Reggie and Alex.</p><p>Suddenly, playing for him has become a habit. Sneaking into the music room during lunch break when Flynn cuddles up to her girlfriend in a hidden library corner. Driving home in his car after school, humming whatever song is stuck in her head. Sitting on the piano bench, arms brushing, knees pressed against each other. His eyes lingering on her, and the voice inside her no longer screaming at him.</p><p>Sometimes, they end up so lost in conversation that she forgets the songs she picked out to play for him.</p><p>“How can you talk about your mom so easily?” he asks on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, a gentle bewilderment in his voice.</p><p>Chuckling, Julie closes the fall board, then hides her hands under her thighs. The fabric of the piano bench feels warm on her cool skin. “It’s not easy. It’s just… it helps, you know? Getting it out. And at some point, it’s not as hard anymore.”</p><p>When she glimpses at him, his gaze is stuck on the six-string on the wall. A sadness she knows all too well slips into his eyes and paints his hazel eyes a shimmering dark grey. He never said out loud that he misses music. He doesn’t have to.</p><p>She nudges his shoulder. His eyes jump to her. “You didn’t deserve to have something taken from you that brought you so much joy.”</p><p>The slightest smile unravels on his lips, and butterflies swarm the pit of her stomach. “Thanks, Julie.”</p><p>“Sure,” she replies softly, her hand carefully resting on top of his.</p><p>Luke stares at their hands together like he’s been granted a miracle he never dared to wish for.</p><p>With his next breath, he slowly whispers, “You know, music was always something I had control of. And then…”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“You didn’t anymore,” she quietly finishes his sentence.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”</p><p>Shaking his head, he pulls his hand away. Ruffles through his hair, tugs at it. “But it shouldn’t be. He can’t tell me anymore what to play. What <em>we</em> should play, or who we can play with. I could write again. I’d have control now. If I wasn’t so…” Breathless, he stops right before she would have interrupted him.</p><p>She catches his hand and holds on tight to it. “Luke, no. There’s nothing wrong with taking the time you need. If it doesn’t feel right yet, that’s okay. Music isn’t resentful. It’ll wait until you’re ready.”</p><p>Out of words, he stares at her. In return, she squeezes his hand harder – a silent but determined reassurance, or so she hopes. Biting his lips, he tears away from her to stare at his black and white vans.</p><p>She’s never seen him wear different shoes.</p><p>“You know what, Alex would be so jealous of that pep talk. That was perfect.”</p><p>Her eyeroll loses its argument as a gentle laugh slips over her lips. “Just take it one day at a time, okay? You’re listening to music again. That’s progress.”</p><p>Luke huffs. “Yeah. Progress in baby steps.”</p><p>“Maybe, but baby steps are still steps. They’ll still take you wherever you want to go.”</p><p>The smile is back on his face, and it almost knocks her off the bench. “Seriously, Julie, did you have inspirational Instagram quotes in your cereals this morning?”</p><p>“Please, I prefer a PB&amp;J for breakfast. And no, I learned that in therapy.”</p><p>“Sounds like fun,” he teases with a softness in his eyes that reminds her so much of the afternoon he kissed her that she almost misses his sad puppy gaze.</p><p>“Yeah, totally.”</p>
<hr/><p>The paper in his hand looks crumbled.</p><p>They’re still sitting in his car when Luke pulls it out of his pocket and holds it in front of her. His hands are shaking. Julie leans forward and turns the radio off.</p><p>“Could you do me a favor?” he asks.</p><p>She tries to ignore the somersault her heart makes in her chest. “Sure. What is it?”</p><p>Their fingers brush. Carefully, she takes the folded note. His touch lingers like the sweet taste of the first strawberry in spring.</p><p>Breathing in, he looks down at his lap, both hands now clenching around the seatbelt. “I’ve always regretted running away from my parents. And I want to tell them, especially my mom, but I just,” he pauses. Grimaces. “I used to think I could record it one day. Say it my way.”</p><p>“So you want me to play your song?”</p><p>The puppy eyes hit her full force. Does he know she’d do everything for him as long as he looks at her like this? “Yeah. And if you don’t mind, I… I’d like to record it.”</p><p>She almost chokes on the lump in her throat before she finds her voice again. “Of course.”</p>
<hr/><p>By the fifth time she plays it, he ran out of tears. It’s not perfect, though, she knows it’s not, no matter the amount of sweet compliments he showers her in.</p><p>And it has to be perfect. For him. </p><p>“One more time. I promise I’ll get this right,” she says, smoothing out the paper once more.</p><p>With a sigh only half-covered by his chuckle, Luke starts another recording.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>First things first </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We start the scene in reverse </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This time, the back of his hand rests against her thigh. He keeps it perfectly still, perhaps not even aware of how the warmth of his skin grounds her, or how much easier it is to breathe when he’s this close. Every chord flows out of her like this is the one song that’s written all over her heart, like she never knew any other melody. Every note out of her mouth feels like he’s the one singing through her, in all his pain, all his love.</p><p>When he presses the red button on his camera, she watches him in breathless silence.</p><p>Luke sinks back down on the bench. Slowly, his hand reaches out to cup her face. His thumb trails over her cheek, wiping away the tears. The delicate smile on his lips creates a new shimmer in her eyes.</p><p>“That was perfect,” he declares in almost a whisper.</p><p>“I just want you to be happy,” she murmurs back.</p><p>Without a warning, his arms wrap around her. He pulls her in until the soft cotton of his flannel jacket caresses her face and the scent of his cologne gives her a rush of happiness unlike anything else. In return, her hands cling to his back as if he’s the most precious thing she ever held onto.</p><p>“Thanks, Jules,” he breathes into her neck. “For everything.”</p><p>Neither of them lets go.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day, he asks her to teach him his song on the piano. Julie almost jumps into his arms from excitement. He doesn’t sing, and his eyes are still pining for her mom’s old guitar, but he’s trying. He’s trying so hard.</p><p><em>Baby steps</em>.</p>
<hr/><p>When he wakes up to the 3am darkness of his room and the first thing he hears isn’t screaming silence, he knows something changed. As his dream slips away, Julie’s voice lingers in his ears. The power with which she carried the chorus, the sweetness of the bridge. Maybe it wasn’t quite a dream, and more of a memory. He remembers how they sat next to each other in the music program, the thrill of their first songwriting session not worn out yet, and how she scribbled the lyrics in the corner of the sheet Mrs. Harrison had just handed out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I believe </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I believe that we’re just one dream</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Away from who we’re meant to be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That we’re standing on the edge of great </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>What he doesn’t remember is the guitar riff playing in his head.</p><p>He shakes his head. Ten months of not touching a guitar, and he’s surprised that the silence inside him drowned out parts of the melody.</p><p>But that piece of paper is still buried somewhere in his notebook.</p><p>Luke stumbles to his desk. It’s the only thing not covered by sticky notes, textbooks or chocolate bar wrappers, and his heart jolts when his fingertips glide over the smooth cover. In the blink of an eye, he’s back on his bed, the flashlight of his phone scaring the shadows away. On the loose sheet, his own bold handwriting is squeezed into the empty spaces between her neat curvy letters. On the page with the finished song, he only finds the script of her hand.</p><p>No guitar riff.</p><p>It can’t be.</p><p>He thinks of Julie, of the smile she gave him when he first asked her a favor. Her hand in his, as her words ease this grief no one else seems to understand. He thinks of her and that feeling of coming home whenever he’s with her, and suddenly, the melody inside his head plays on full volume, every note as crystal-clear as the night sky outside his window.</p><p>Something changed. No, not something. Everything. <em>What is lost can be found</em>, indeed.</p>
<hr/><p>When he plays the riff for her during lunch break, she’s not the only one crying from relief.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The songs outside the original soundtrack that I mentioned in here are:<br/>5 Seconds of Summer - Youngblood<br/>5 Seconds of Summer - Out of my Limit<br/>Taylor Swift - Clean</p></blockquote></div></div>
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